


Of Time and Memories

by BaredWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Cunnilingus, Episode Related, Episode s07e12: Time After Time, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poker, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaredWolf/pseuds/BaredWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friendly game of poker with nothing left to bet gets interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Time and Memories

They'd started out toasting Bobby's memory, making use of the bottle of scotch she had found in one of the boxes of books. But by the second glass, they'd laughed until they both had tears in their eyes remembering the ridiculous shit he used to do, and then Sam wanted to show Jody a card trick Bobby taught him once upon a time. From there…somehow, it devolved into a game of poker and a steadily draining bottle of scotch. 

"What have you got for me, big boy?" Jody asked drumming her fingers against the fanned cards she held close to her chest. Sam laughed, limbs loose and easy now with the half of the bottle they'd finished, eyes bright in the too-blue light of the camping lantern. Three-quarters of the bottle, almost, she realized as she glanced at it. Anyways.

"Read 'em and weep," Sam declared, laying out two pairs. 

"Oh," Jody said, her face falling a little. She rubbed her thumb absently over the silky plastic of the laminated cards still tucked against her chest. "Do you want me to get you some ice?" Sam looked confused, eyes darting to his glass. "For this burn," she grinned laying out a straight. Sam frowned at her for a moment, before grabbing her hands and running his fingers around her wrists, just under her sleeves. "Hey!"

"Are you cheating?" he demanded, now flipping her hands over in his own and examining them. She realized he was touching her gently: bold and demanding, but gentle. 

"No!" She exclaimed, giggling a little. He tried to frown at her again, but he was smiling a little despite himself. She grinned at him as she took her hands back; as much as she was loathe to relinquish the contact, her dirty mind wasn't his problem. Except for the part where that looked like eagerness in his eyes. She reached for the bottle of scotch, pouring herself another two fingers. She offered the bottle wordlessly to Sam, who poured more into his own glass as well. 

"Well, maybe it would burn more if we were actually playing for something," he teased. 

"We are not playing for cash," she said, pointing a finger at him, "because you'd probably get my shirt all snotty crying over how I cleaned you out." 

"Oh, you'd clean me out, would you?" he retorted, grinning again. Goddamn, he was handsome enough the rest of the time, but when he smiled…she gestured to the cards on the table in front of them, raising her eyebrows pointedly. "That's one hand," he insisted. 

"Alright, so what should we play for?" she asked, taking a swallow of her scotch. "I think we have a box of crackers somewhere that we could wager with." Sam smiled as he shrugged. 

"Dean and I used to bet chores sometimes, but…" he trailed off. No chores to do here, at least not really. 

"So what," Jody laughed, "strip poker?" She wanted to kick herself immediately. _I want to see you naked_. She might as well just say it out loud. But Sam's eyes darkened a fraction at the suggestion, his grin turning just a shade hotter than lighthearted. He shrugged again. 

"It's that or give up the pretense," he said, leaving the words dangling for a moment too long, gauging her reaction, "of playing poker. Because it's not really poker if we're not betting something." Jody felt her cheeks heating up under the way Sam was looking at her, because that was heat in his eyes - undisguised now. 

"Sam," she said softly, because she should talk him out of this, should have some good reason that this shouldn't happen, except that right now she couldn't think of any. They were loose and tipsy, to be sure, but neither of them really drunk yet. Sam pulled back the hand that had been reaching out to cover hers when she spoke. 

"If you're not…" he said, surprised and worried but not hurt, not yet. 

"No, no, it's just…" She wished she could come up with the words. "Yeah, you're right," she smiled, "fuck the cards."He laughed a little at that, leaning closer and brushing his fingertips over the back of her hand. She tried (and failed) to suppress a shiver as he gently took her hand, pulling so she stood.

He pushed his chair out from the table, turning it so that his back was to the table. Still holding her hand, he pulled her closer, leaving her the option of hovering over him awkwardly or climbing into his lap. 

He was warm between her legs, heat radiating off of every part of him and he was somehow still taller than her even as her butt rested against his thighs. He smiled softly, cupping her jaw and pulling her in for a kiss, soft and testing. She fisted her free hand in his shirt, the fingers of their other hands still twined together. She settled closer as she braced her feet on the rungs of the chair, drawing their bodies closer as they breathed shared air. He was being gentle, so gentle, and she could feel him holding back. 

"I won't break," she chided, pulling back so she could see his eyes as he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. 

"Are you sure?" he replied, more breathless than she might have expected and that was a kind of thrilling in itself. 

"Should I use my mom voice?" she asked, layering the question with just a hint of that tone, wondering if it was the right thing to say to him, how he might respond to that but he shuddered beneath her and grabbed her face with both hands, pulling her in for a rough kiss. 

And there, that was it, this was what she had imagined (oh, how she had imagined) it might be. A hand on her face and one on her hip, pulling her tighter to him and encouraging the roll of her hips against his hardening length. 

He was strong, and big, every bit of him, lifting her easily as he stood. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she clung to his shoulders, gasping a little into his mouth as the roll of his hips pressed his cock against her clit through the seam of her jeans. _God fucking bless stretch denim_ , she thought blasphemously. 

"Where?" she asked, wondering if they should use the chair (they'd probably break it) or try to get upstairs to one of their sleeping bags. 

"Condoms in my duffle," he replied, settling the matter. 

"I can walk," she offered, still kissing him, so the words were a little muffled against his lips. He let her down, their bodies still pressed closely together so she more or less slid down his front. Her legs wobbled a little, between the scotch and the ridiculously potent arousal she was kind of unsteady, but she thought she'd probably make it up the stairs. 

"You okay?" Sam asked, all concerned as she swayed slightly. Jody laughed. 

"Yeah, I'll live," she teased. _Okay_ did't exactly describe it. 

She almost laughed when she took in the deflated-looking sleeping bag in the otherwise empty room, its shape broken into strange fractions by pattern of the moonlight streaming through the dingy window. She ought to somehow be above this, a small part of her thought, but then Sam was wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing the skin behind her ear and she remembered why she would basically fuck this man on a pile of broken glass if that's what it took to get the length currently pressed against her ass inside of her. 

Sam was teasing at the waist of her jeans with his fingers, brushing fabric aside to get to her skin. She felt her back arch, almost involuntarily, offering the skin of her neck to his lips as her ass pressed back harder against him. She turned in his arms, facing him, sliding her hands up his arms and over his shoulders and marveling at the wall of muscle hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt.

Sam was a hell of a kisser. His hands were warm on her body where one was splayed over her lower back, little finger dipping below her waistband, the other sliding up to squeeze gently at her breasts. She tangled one hand in his hair, turning her head so his lips were on her neck again as they both worked at the buttons of her shirt. A minute of fumbling and only half of them were undone. 

"Okay, two options," she managed to gasp. "You do you and I'll do me, or we just rip it all off." The grin that spread across Sam's face made her afraid for a moment that he was going to go with the ripping, but then he was partially unbuttoning and stripping off his shirt and it took her a moment to focus on what she was supposed to be doing. 

She felt a little silly, struggling with her shoes (which were a damn sight harder to remove while watching Sam was shuck his jeans). But then his hands were on her again, and he was kissing her, unhooking her bra and pulling her pants off and they tumbled to the ground together, by some magic landing on that sleeping bag. Sam tugged her into his lap again, skin hot on skin and pulling her hips so she ground firmly against him. Both only in their underwear now, she gasped as she felt how huge he was, holding tightly to him as he rolled his hips up to grind against her. 

He was mouthing at her jaw, her shoulder, any bit of skin he could reach like the only thing in the world he wanted was the taste of her in his mouth. He tipped them forward, holding on to her as he laid her on her back. Hungrily, hands seeking as he brushed his thumbs lightly over her nipples, he kissed her mouth again. She shivered as he began to mouth down her body, lips and tongue and teeth seeking out every spot that made her gasp, that made her strain towards him, her body begging for more even as she bit her lip. His fingers preceded his mouth, brushing over the damp cotton of her panties and making her moan softly. 

"Don't be quiet on my account," he said teasingly, running his tongue along the waistband of her panties. 

"Oh," she gasped, stomach fluttering at the sensation that was half tickle and half tease. "Fuck. Okay." He laughed softly as he dipped his head to mouth at her through her underwear and she felt herself smiling even as she threw her head back with a whimper. 

He wasn't being gentle, just like she had asked, rough with his mouth and his tongue and even his teeth, biting softly at her as his hands pinned her hips in place. She felt the heat start building, started wondering if he was going to have her coming before he even fully undressed her and the thought drove her a little mad. But he seemed to grow impatient, suddenly, the heat of his mouth disappearing as the wet fabric suddenly chilled. He pulled her panties off (she thought he might have ripped those, a little) and then his mouth was back, groaning softly as he teased at her folds with his lips, tongue darting in to taste her and breath ghosting hotly over where she really wanted pressure. 

She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling a little and then pulling harder when it made him moan and lick at her more eagerly. She tried to shift her hips, to convince him that he had teased long enough but he held her firmly in place, long fingers spanning her hips and she would _really_ rather have those somewhere else. He breathed hotly over her clit, upper lip on the hood of it as his lower lip dragged up her slit. He gave her a teasing flick of his tongue against it, shifting his hands so one was pressed firmly against her lower abdomen and the other was stroking between her soaked folds, dipping in just barely as he teased at her entrance. She whimpered again, and she could have sworn she felt him smiling, but then he was pressing his finger in, adding a second and crooking them as his tongue laved at her clit, and she was gone, a burning wave of pleasure washing through her body as her muscles tensed and the world shrunk down to the bliss of his body and hers. 

She was still gasping for air when he leaned back up over her, fingers still stroking inside of her gently. Her hands were still twisted in his hair and she pulled him in for a kiss. He seemed surprised for a moment but then groaned as she licked the taste of herself from his mouth, pressing his erection against her thigh and rolling his hips in time with his fingers. She was still loose and hazy from her orgasam when he pulled away, gently slipping his fingers out of her and reaching towards his bag. He fumbled around for a minute (she was barely paying attention, just watching the lines of his muscle shifting under his skin and hoping he would come back so she could trace them with her fingers again). He bit at her inner thigh as he turned back to her, grinning as he leaned over her to kiss her again. He braced his weight on one forearm by her head, the other hand lining up his cock. She shifted her hips, making the angle easier, and then he was pressing inside her, watching her face as he filled her and she had to close her eyes. He was bigger than she had thought, but it wasn't too much. Not quite. She gasped as she felt him bottom out, the head of his cock pressing on her cervix and she felt so full. She opened her eyes again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and grabbing at his hips with her knees as he began to thrust. 

"Mmm, like that," he whispered against her hair, and she realized she was loosing little whimpering noises with every thrust, the pleasure he drew from her escalating as he slipped a hand under her, tipping her hips so his cock rubbed along the front wall of her cunt, hitting that sensitive spot exactly right. Her hands seemed to have migrated to his ass of their own accord, squeezing to feel the muscle working with each rolling thrust. She felt herself getting close again and it really hadn't been long enough but who the hell was counting. 

"Sam," she breathed, and he tore his mouth from her collar bone to kiss her again, "I'm…" He pressed closer, his thrusts pressing against her clit now and she clung to him tightly as her back arched and her body shook through a second orgasam. She was fairly certain that she had screamed this time, but the world had gone white and she wasn't that sure. Sam hummed pleasedly against her skin, biting along her jaw and slowing his thrusts as she recovered. She felt exhaustion threatening to subsume her, but then he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, lifting her so she was straddling his lap again and they were back where they started. She rolled her hips for him, clenching and releasing as he slid in and out of her, angling the thrusts so he was still hitting her g-spot. 

He watched her for a minute, face rapt, before ducking his head to press his forehead against her collar bones, a hand splayed across her upper back and the other pressing low over the end of her spine. She held him like that, riding him slow and smooth as he gasped against her skin, his hips rolling up into hers. His breathing grew noisier, a low growl escaping him as she felt him grow impossibly thicker inside her, and then his hips were stuttering as he pulled her down onto him hard. She felt his cock pulse as he came, the feeling triggering another intense wave of pleasure. She wasn't sure if she had come again or it was just an aftershock from before, but it wasn't like it mattered, with Sam kissing her as he continued to pulse inside her. 

He was gentle again as he lifted her off of him, removing and disposing of the condom while she caught her breath. Sam grinned when he caught her eye, kissing her temple and her cheek before he kissed her mouth again. 

"You wanna grab your bag?" he asked. She nodded, still breathless, then grinned before kissing him again. 

She made a pit stop in what passed for the bathroom, since she was way too to old to pretend she didn't know better than to skip peeing after sex. 

When she returned, Sam had unzipped his sleeping bag and was sprawled on his back, still naked. She kind of wanted to lick him, which was ridiculous considering. Maybe in the morning. He rolled over as she laid down, pulling the sleeping bag over them and tucking her to his chest. 

She heard his breath catch suddenly, and then he was up, across the room, scratching at the baseboard. 

"It's from Dean," he said breathlessly, showing her the note he had found.


End file.
